


Birthday Wishes & Messes

by infectedscrew



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alfred keeps the bats together, Family Bonding, Gen, birthday bash, his family loves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectedscrew/pseuds/infectedscrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Alfred’s Birthday and the Manor is in chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Wishes & Messes

**Author's Note:**

> A commission piece that wanted the Batfam coming together for Alfred's Birthday; which should be a national holiday.

Alfred knew his day was going to be strange from the very beginning. From the moment he opened his eyes, he was filled with amusement and a tiny dash of dread for what his day his day might bring him.

He had thought that over the years he would have grown used to the rambunctious affairs that were birthdays. Yet every year he found himself, at once, amused and amazed. His own birthday was on an entirely different level. At his age, birthdays didn’t hold as much excitement for him but for his ever growing family, it was a massive affair.

Whatever happened, it was sure to be quite loud, very messy and, most importantly, everything Alfred wanted.

With a resigned smile, he dressed and headed out to face the day.

As he made his way through the Manor, opening windows along the way to let in the fresh spring air, he realized that he wasn’t the only one up at the early hour. Normally he would have assumed that someone, usually Tim or Bruce, had pulled an all-nighter and was just trying to sneak into bed before he caught them. But Alfred had personally seen all the boys off to bed the night before. That meant that someone had managed to wake up prior to him and beat him down to the kitchen.

Curiosity and trepidation picked up his pace as he headed down to one of the most frequented rooms of the household.

“Good morning, Master Richard,” Alfred greeted, spotting a familiar messy head bent into the fridge.

Despite his light tone, the kitchen was a disaster. It warm and sweet smelling but the counters were covered in an amalgamation of breakfast foods, cooking supplies and ingredients. He could always count on Richard to make breakfast for his birthday, even if he left the kitchen as a war zone behind.

At his voice, Dick’s head popped out from behind the fridge door. He was beaming but in an excited, frazzled sort of way. His hair was sticking up wildly and there was flour on his cheek. He tapped the door shut with his foot and hurried up to the butler.

“Alfred! Happy Birthday!” It was practically a cheer.

Alfred dipped his head in a courteous nod. “Thank you, sir. Your gift to me is dirty dishes and messy counters?”

Dick grimaced, looking around the kitchen. “Well… No, breakfast. I made muffins, pancakes, those weird tea cookies you like, sausage and–”

“Say no more, it all sounds wonderful,” Alfred said, lifting his hand to cut off the, sure to be, massive list.

“I figured,” Dick continued on, “you make breakfast for us every day, I’ll make it today.”

Alfred lifted an apron off of the back of the kitchen door and slipped it on. He stepped up to the counter, carefully rolling up his sleeves.

“No, no,” Dick wailed, waving his hands. “You’re not supposed to work. I’m supposed to be helping you.”

“You can help me by waking the others and bringing them down here to enjoy your delicious breakfast,” Alfred replied. “While you are retrieving them, I will set the table for you.”

Dick looked put out, shoulders slumping.

Alfred paused in the middle of stacking the used mixing bowls in the sink. He wiped his hands before reaching over to squeeze Dick’s shoulder. “I won’t cook and I won’t work too hard but you know you aren’t allowed to make coffee.”

Dick blew out a small breath but brightened again. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay! Don’t you dare make a single thing. Except for coffee, I’ll be right back.”

Still covered in flour and butter, Dick hurried out of the kitchen. It made Alfred shake his head once. As promised, he didn’t do anything more than make coffee and set the small breakfast nook tucked into the corner. The nook was much more comfortable and welcoming, unlike the heavy, fancy dining room table. Days when the family gathered at the worn, coffee stained table were some of Alfred’s favorites.

By the time Alfred had set the table, laying out piles of Dick’s food, the mugs of coffee and glasses of juice, Dick returned with the rest in tow.

None of them looked quite awake yet but they all managed to offer Alfred a smile or nod.

“Pennyworth,” Damian greeted with a sleepy nod. He accepted the mug of tea

that Alfred pressed into his hands.

Jason briefly grasped his shoulder. “Happy Birthday, Alf,” he said, stifling a yawn behind his fist.

Alfred’s birthday was one of the few times of the year that Jason made an exception and stayed home. As soon as midnight struck, he was off like a shot but Alfred appreciated his presence all the same. He purposefully cleaned and made up Jason’s old room just for his visit.

“Thank you, Master Jason,” he answered, gesturing Jason into the chair closest

to the door.

Dick slid into the built in bench, already starting to pile up his plate. When no one else moved to fill theirs, he started to do it for them.

“Jesus, how much did you make?” Jason asked, staring down at the veritable

feast.

“All of Alfred’s favorites,” Dick replied.

Jason’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline, “his favorites or yours?”

“Shush,” Dick retorted, briefly sticking his tongue out.

Alfred was fully prepared to reprimand Dick when he noticed that Tim was searching the kitchen–bumbling around was more accurate. “Ah, Master Timothy, I have your coffee here,” he said, turning away from the table to lift the favorite mug from the counter.

“Oh, thanks,” Tim mumbled, taking the drink gratefully. He took a gulp before he refocused on Alfred, looking a little more alive. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you,” Alfred said, gently guiding Tim into his seat next to Jason.

The last to arrive was Bruce. He was dressed and groomed but didn’t look quite alive yet. He straightened his turtle neck before stepping up to Alfred. He was holding a small envelope, which he promptly offered.

The movements reminded Alfred of a much smaller, younger Bruce who had done much the same thing. He had been so serious then, presenting his gift to Alfred and determined to look mature while he did it–even if he had been brimming with excitement for Alfred to open it.

“The usual, I presume,” Alfred said, amusement lingering around his mouth.

Bruce nodded before he smirked, “with a small twist. Open it up.”

That made Alfred pause. He flipped the envelope over and slit it open. Inside were the familiar plane tickets but where he expected a resort pass, he found a hotel reservation. He tugged it out and flipped it open.

The entire group was watching him expectantly.

“This is in London,” Alfred said after reading. He looked back up at Bruce who was looking particularly smug. “Sir, if this is your way of firing me, it’s rather distasteful.”

Jason snorted a laugh.

For a second Damian looked horrified that his father might actually fire Alfred. Then Bruce laughed and he relaxed.

“If I fired you, hell has frozen over and I’ve been replaced with a monster,” Bruce answered. “Look at the last ticket.”

Alfred took the final sheaf of paper out. He smiled, “ah.”

“Your favorite opera,” Bruce said, some of that eagerness he used to have as a child showing through as he explained the gift. “It’s only having three showings this year and they are all in London.”

“A fantastic gift, sir, thank you.”

Bruce nodded, satisfied. He took his seat and Dick promptly set a full plate in front of him.

Breakfast was a, thankfully, quiet affair after that. The boys were still waking up and all of them were hungry after a long patrol. They chattered amiably, regaling Alfred with stories of the ridiculous criminals they met the night before. All of them put up a token argument when Alfred started to clean the kitchen but were quickly talked down when Alfred told them that they could help when they were done eating.

By the time they were done, there wasn’t anything left except to put the food away. Bruce slipped out while the youngsters clambered over each other trying to get Tupperware and to find space in the fridge to put everything away.

Alfred hung back, watching them and knowing full well that he’d have to rearrange it all when they had finally cleared out.

The only reason they left was because Dick bopped Jason on the nose and Jason wasn’t about to take that lying down. With a whoop, Dick sprinted out of the kitchen with Jason hot on his heels.

“Master Timothy…” Alfred started.

Tim sighed and nodded. He set his mug on the counter and followed after them. Someone had to make sure that no one broke anything.

“No running!” Bruce called from his study.

“Pennyworth,” Damian said from the doorway, watching Dick and Jason tear through the halls.

Alfred made a small sound of acknowledgement as he cleared up the last of the dishes and started to wash them.

“Meet me in the garden. Please,” he added after a short pause.

“Of course, sir.”

Damian gave a curt nod and disappeared through the door.

It didn’t take long at all for Alfred to finish the last of the mess. Even if he found something new stuck somewhere else every time he turned around, he still had it all cleared up within a matter of minutes. Returning the apron to it’s hook on the door, he straightened his sleeves and headed to the mud room that allowed him out into the garden.

In the small room full of rain boots, gardening tools and plant pots, Alfred could see that Damian had already gathered up his small basket of tools. He replaced his smart Oxford’s with the dirty, garden clogs instead. Snagging two sun hats, he headed outside.

At the entrance to the rose gardens, Damian was waiting for him clutching the wicker basket and a small brown bag.

The moment Alfred stepped up to him, Damian thrust the bag toward him.

“You did not have to bring a gift, sir,” Alfred said, still taking the bag.

Damian frowned, avoiding looking at him. “Grayson told me it was customary to give gifts on birthdays.”

“Generally,” Alfred agreed. He tucked the sunhats under one arm so he could open the bag. Contained inside were three packets of seeds. Pulling them out, Alfred saw they were all different kinds of roses, all rare and some of his favorites.

“Do you… Do you like them?” Damian asked, finally looking up at them.

Alfred nodded, putting the seeds back. He handed the sunhat to Damian, who took it after a moment and rammed it on his head.

“Let’s find a good spot to plant these, shall we?”

Damian followed Alfred into the garden and helped him find an empty spot to plant some of the new seeds.

It was only recently that Damian had started to garden with Alfred. There had been no conversation to invoke it. Alfred had been planting at the turn of the season, wanting to set in some fresh herbs early. Just after he had finished clearing away the dried and dead plants of winter, Damian had appeared and wordlessly started to help till the soil.

Later Alfred had discovered that the young boy and his father had gotten into an argument that resulted in at least one broken vase and a lot of traded insults.

Ever since, it was a silent agreement that the pair of them would garden when the rest of the world became too much for Damian. Alfred was quite glad to have someone else in the garden with him. The chance to teach someone about all of his plants and how to turn the earth was a pleasure he hadn’t had in a long time.

The others had tried to learn as well but, outside of Tim, who preferred to sit and listen instead of actually help, no one else had stuck around. But Damian was determined to see something grow with his own hands and Alfred was only too happy to teach him how.

“Alfred!” Dick shouted over the hedges after a few hours had passed and the seeds had been successfully planted and water. “Lunch!”

“And Dickie didn’t make it this time,” Jason’s voice followed. “No fuss, no muss!”

“I could have made it,” Dick argued.

Jason scoffed, turning the corner that brought him into Alfred and Damian’s corner of the garden. “And have yet another messy kitchen to clean up?”

Dick followed close behind, glowering without any real heat. “You didn’t even do the cleaning,” he muttered.

Alfred sat back on his haunches, pushing his sunhat back. He tucked his trowel and the unused seeds inside his gardening basket. Beside him, Damian rubbed his nose, getting a little dirt on the tip. The pair stood, straightening to face the two newcomers.

“What is for lunch then?” Alfred asked.

“No idea,” Jason answered, dipping down slightly to take Alfred’s basket. “The girls are here, they brought something. Smells fancy.”

“Everything smells fancy to you,” Damian commented, “especially soap.”

Jason reached down to violently ruffled Damian’s hat. “I regularly bathe, little shit.”

Damian batted him away, face red. He fixed his hat but there was a good chance that his hair was going to be in total disarray when he took the hat off.

“Sir…” Alfred warned lightly, accepting the cool glass of lemonade that Dick gave him.

“Sorry,” Jason said, looking properly abashed. “But hey! Lunch.”

“Good save,” Dick said out of the corner of his mouth, offering Damian the second glass.

Jason elbowed him.

Alfred swept past them, knowing full well that they would follow when whatever argument they were having was finished.

Back in the mud room, he returned his hat to it’s hook on the wall and replaced his shoes once more. He mopped his face with his kerchief, straightened himself and headed out to the grand hall to greet ‘the girls’.

True to Jason’s word, Stephanie, Cassandra and Barbara were all waiting for him when he arrived. They were gathered around Bruce and Tim who both seemed determined to explain a murder investigation in full detail before Alfred arrived.

“And all the clocks were stuck at 3:33, exactly,” Tim added to whatever list of clues that Bruce had just given.

Barbara frowned, processing the information. “Could be Clock King,” she offered.

Next to her, Stephanie leaned around Bruce and spotted Alfred. She grinned brightly and waved at him frantically, “Alffie! Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you, Miss Brown,” he returned before fixing a hard stare on the two men. “No cases…”

“Outside of the Cave,” they both mumbled, sheepish.

Barbara chuckled, “sorry, Alfred. Just can’t turn it off.”

Alfred gave a long suffering sigh. He nodded, affecting a morose expression. “I have been attempting to fix it for years,” he said, lifting the heavy, warm bag that was balanced on Barbara’s lap.

“Congratulations,” Cass intoned, handing him the small stack of condiments that went with it.

“Much appreciated,” Alfred said, looking at the label. “Ah, Miss Pareaux’s. A very good choice”

Barbara nodded, smiling. She tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing the earrings that Alfred had gotten her for Hanukkah. It pleased him to see them and he had the shrewd feeling that she had done it on purpose.

“My idea,” Stephanie said triumphantly, puffing up her chest. “Babs’ money though.”

Alfred gave another nod. “Again, thank you.”

Tim reached over to carefully take the bags from him. “Cass suggested we eat outside. I’ll take it out for you.”

“I’ll fetch drinks then,” Alfred agreed, releasing the bag. Silently he knew he’d also have to collect plates and cutlery.

“I’ll help!” Stephanie announced. She grasped Cass’ hand, volunteering the other girl. The two of them trailed after Alfred.

In the kitchen, Alfred set his half finished lemonade on the counter and gathered up a tray of iced tea, ice, cups and sugar. Stephanie fluttered around him gathering up plates while Cassandra picked up a pile of silverware. The whole time Stephanie gabbed, catching Alfred up on everything the ladies had been up to, how her mother was, what the boys had been hesitant to share and the 411 on Gotham celebs.

“Miss Vale has always had quite the set of vocabulary,” Alfred commented.

Stephanie nodded, dropping some napkins on her pile of plates. “No kidding,” she complained. “But enough about her, how is your birthday? You getting everything you want?”

“So far, it is going swimmingly,” Alfred said, gesturing for her to head out of the kitchen.

Stephanie shook her head, ponytail waving wildly. She lifted her stack and moved out.

“What for?” Cassandra asked, frowning at her negative head movement. She moved one step behind Stephanie.

“British slang, it’s so weird.”

Alfred arched an eyebrow, carrying his tray behind them both. “Yes and ‘bees knees’ isn’t strange at all.”

Stephanie laughed. “No one says that anymore, Alffie!”

“My mistake,” Alfred said dryly.

Outside, the tray was quickly whisked out of Alfred’s hands and between Stephanie and Jason the table was quickly set. Although the process was slightly hindered when neither of them could agree where the salad fork was supposed to go. It was only ended when Tim silently leaned forward and moved one into it’s rightful place.

“Rich kids,” they both muttered.

Soon enough, everyone had settled down and Barbara unpacked all the boxes. She made Alfred’s plate first, effectively shutting down his offers to help. In a matter of minutes, conversation was struck up and the group ate happily.

While Alfred would much prefer to wait until the other’s had taken their fill, he had to admit that Miss Pareaux’s was one of his favorite restaurants and he wasn’t going to pass up on a delicious lunch.

After lunch, it was another fight to help Alfred clean. In the end, Bruce gently placed a hand on Alfred’s wrist and held him in place.

“Let them,” Bruce suggested, watching the children quickly clean up the table and carry everything inside. “If they break anything, I’ll clean it up.”

“That would be a first,” Alfred drawled.

Bruce chuckled, lifting his tea for a sip.

Soon enough the pack had returned, plopping back down at the table. It was rare that they were all together. Barring natural disasters and city-wide catastrophes, their night and day lives tended to keep them all very busy. Unless they were staying at the Manor, Alfred usually had to hunt them down to make sure they were healthy and eating properly. Although those visits were largely for the boys. The girls, Barbara especially, knew how to take care of themselves. Alfred usually only saw them to drop of a batch of bread or muffins.

To see them all gathered at the same table, no one bleeding and no major case hanging over their heads was a massive joy for Alfred. There might have been arguments and teasing but none of them were truly mad. No insults, outside of good natured ribbing, were being traded. As of yet, there hadn’t been any threats to anyone’s wellbeing.

Honestly, that was a better gift than anything anyone could get him, not that he was going to turn down the presents that Cass and Babs slid his way.

One contained a new sunhat, much sturdier and better made than his current one.

“You can replace the inside lining,” Babs told him, ever practical.

Dick took the hat when Alfred had set it aside. He stuck it on his head and lifted his hand to his jaw in an exaggerated pose. “What do you think?” He asked, turned his nose up and modelling.

“Like a dumb ass,” Jason said.

“Ridiculous,” Damian pointed out.

“Like a suburban house mom,” Stephanie offered.

Dick sighed loudly. “Oh, my God. No one has anything nice to say. It’s Alfred’s birthday. A sacred day in which we should all be nice to each other.”

Tim propped his chin up on his hand, arching an eyebrow. “You’re just saying that so they’ll stop insulting you.”

“Well, duh,” Dick replied, taking the hat off and handing it back to Alfred.

“Sunhats just aren’t your thing, boy wonder,” Babs commented, refilling her glass.

Wisely, Alfred kept out of it and opened Cass’ gift instead. She had handed him a smartly wrapped box with perfectly crisp paper. Inside the small box was a brand new bow tie, jet black and perfectly ironed.

“I have been looking for a replacement.”

Cass nodded, some of her worry that it might not be a good gift easing into her expression. It quickly disappeared when Alfred thanked her and Stephanie shook her shoulder.

“He’s gonna look like a man about town with that on,” Stephanie said.

“Watch out Gotham, Alfred is single and ready to mingle!” Jason continued.

“Those ladies won’t know what hit them,” Dick added. “He’s a dead knockout.”

Damian wrinkled his nose in distaste. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. A haughty look pulled over his features.

“What’s up, demon?” Jason asked, which earned him a sharp glare from Bruce.

“There isn’t a woman out there good enough for Pennyworth.”

The table fell silent, staring at Damian. Each had their own expression of surprised amusement, in Jason’s case uncontrollable mirth, etched into their faces.

“Thank you, Master Damian,” Alfred said. “That is a very high compliment.”

“Awe!” Dick cooed, reaching over to pinch Damian’s cheek. “He likes Alfred!”

On his other side, Stephanie reached over to do the same, grinning widely as she did so. They were both quickly hit away and were sent hard glares that rivalled Bruce’s.

“Vultures, all of you,” he complained, rubbing his cheeks.

Laughter erupted around the table.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly and in much the same manner. It was only broken up when Alfred went to get snacks and more drinks for the table. Just before dinner time, Babs announced that it was time for her to head home. She wheeled back from the table as Alfred stood up to lead her out.

Stephanie and Cass stood as well. With Babs as their ride, they had to go with her. They gave their goodbyes to the rest of the table.

“It was great to see you, Alfred,” Babs said at the front door.

“I agree. Perhaps, if you stopped by more, we can have another great time,” Alfred replied lightly but Babs winced at the light dig there. “I truly appreciated your visit. You are always a gift to have around.”

“Awe shucks,” Stephanie muttered.

Cass looked at her quizzically.

“Babs got him, like, three gifts,” she said, dropping her hands on her hips.

“You are a gift as well,” Alfred offered.

Stephanie smiled and gave him a quick hug. “Happy Birthday, Alffie,” she said once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“See you then. And you as well, Miss Cain.”

Cass nodded, briefly touching the tips of her fingers to the back of his hand. Without another word, she followed Stephanie and Barbara outside.

Alfred closed the door, silence falling over the entrance way. It didn’t last long before there was the quiet sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. He turned to see Tim standing with a small package in his hands.

“Master Timothy?”

“I, uh, got you something too,” Tim said, lifting the box. “It’s not a trip to London or premade breakfast but…”

“I’m sure it’s lovely,” Alfred interrupted smoothly, gently. He took the box. It was wrapped very simply and quite easy for Alfred to open right where he was.

Laid inside was a gleaming kitchen knife. About two weeks ago, Alfred had mentioned that one of his best knives was ruined when Dick accidentally placed it in the dishwasher. It had been an off-hand comment but he really shouldn’t have been surprised to know that Tim had listened.

“As I said, very lovely,” Alfred said, looking back up at Tim who was smiling crookedly. “Thank you.”

There was a pause then Tim shuffled forward to embrace him in a very brief hug. Except it ended up not being as brief as the teenager wanted it to be. Because Dick quite suddenly collided with the pair and trapped Tim between himself and the bemused Alfred.

“Hey!” Dick practically shouted in Tim’s ear. “Get in here! It’s Hug Time!”

A loud, groan was the response and it could really only have come from Jason. Despite the complaint the other three shuffled in. Jason stepped forward and locked his arms around Alfred, laughing as Tim was crushed a little further.

Dick had to move one arm to drag Damian over and into Alfred’s side. He also sent a meaningful glance to Bruce who rolled his eyes to the ceiling but moved into the tangled mess of limbs as well.

“Happy Birthday, Alfred,” Dick cheered, as the others mumbled their same well-wishes and praise.

Alfred chuckled quietly. He knew his day was going to be strange and chaotic and a bit of a mess, but right then and there, he wouldn’t have traded it for the world.


End file.
